


An interesting claim to stake

by Cinnamaldeide



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Dom Will Graham, Dom/sub, Don’t copy to another site, Episode: s01e01 Apéritif, M/M, Revised Version, Season/Series 01, Smitten Hannibal Lecter, Sub Hannibal Lecter, aesthetic included
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23393752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamaldeide/pseuds/Cinnamaldeide
Summary: Jack discovers the compatibility between an unassertive dominant and a proud submissive.For the Fandom Trumps Hate 2020
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 25
Kudos: 173
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2020





	An interesting claim to stake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_Cleo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Cleo/gifts).



> Many thanks to [Petra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Cleo) for having bidden me for the Fandom Trumps Hate auction and for having given me the green light to explore one of the prompts that came up in the [Sub Hannibal channel](https://discordapp.com/invite/SX5H8aY) on Discord, and to [Another_lost_one](https://archiveofourown.org/users/another_lost_one) for having beta read this work, which will probably be included in a book I’m planning to publish ❀

Solely relying on his personal experience with controlling dominants and unpaired submissives, Jack Crawford would have pegged Hannibal Lecter for the previous rather than the latter.

Alana Bloom, esteemed colleague and rather considerate mistress, had told Jack in advice that her well-mannered, uncharacteristically assertive mentor was quite unique of his kind. A certified submissive, she ensured, if an oddity of sorts.

Jack caught the real meaning of her words upon their first meeting, when the broad-shouldered man, in all his cordial self-possession, bid him to remain in the waiting room of his studio until his own business had been settled, instead of receiving him immediately and with all honours.

It stuck Jack like a minor demonstration of power, which brought a wrinkle to his forehead. He had expected a warmer reception, considering the nature of his intended consultant. If possible, the conversation they entertained inside the imposing psychiatric office proved to be ulterior confirmation of just how absolutely  _ wrong  _ Jack had been in his assumption.

Lecter didn’t precisely dominate their brief exchange, rather gave flowery but altogether detached answers, kept his composure when his artistic and academic merits were commended, unselfconsciously inquired about Jack’s own motivations when it became abundantly clear that his wasn’t a mere friendly visit.

Jack even found himself singing his extensive praises like he rarely would for a dominant fellow, if at all necessary, but the man stood straighter, receptive to the compliments, and allowed his intellectual pride to be stroked with complacency.

Lecter was a reputedly self-confident submissive, had been in high demand as an eligible bachelor for an abundant decade but, if Alana were to be trusted, always refused to be controlled or, in less savoury terms,  _ tamed  _ by any of his several suitors.

Jack had never see the association between a dominant and a submissive individual as a process of domestication, nor would he feign he saw the appeal in forcing another person into submission for personal fulfillment. In fact, he believed certain personalities to be more prone to receive directions and act accordingly, a simple natural inclination.

Will Graham, gifted profiler with a penchant for vitriolic remarks, could have been mistaken for a person so predisposed at first glance. Even after repeated blinks, if Jack was to be honest with himself. However, the man was indeed his own kind of controversial dominant.

Seldom had the FBI agent encountered an attested specimen incapable of holding eye-contact even for short amounts of time. His recorded placement in the autistic spectrum certainly explained his case, but his continued twitches and little spasms, however effective a deterrent to social interactions, weren’t enough to dissuade Jack from ambushing him after his lesson with a professional request.

Despite the persistent feistiness and cantankerous attitude, through which acquaintances and coworkers had notoriously been persuaded to keep their distance, Will Graham exuded an air of deference. He kept his shoulders averted, used a low tone of voice, didn’t attempt to challenge or turn his back on an authoritative figure. Quite atypically so, for their sort.

He was reluctant to shake hands with Jack, but didn’t protest when the remote control of his projector was handled without permission, and even begrudgingly allowed Jack to adjust the frame of his glasses shortly thereafter, basically  _ forcing  _ their eyes to meet when the gesture was clearly intended to interrupting his aborted retreat.

It required a considerate level of meekness, or possibly an impressive impulse control, to rein himself in confronted with such a blatant command for attention. Jack had never prided himself a subtle dominant.

Will Graham was known for his astounding insight and demure nature, for being well-versed in the knowledge of serial killers and for thinking about crime scenes in a very specific way, which of course ostensibly affected his socializing skills, as well as his mating compatibility.

Alana had openly expressed her chagrin at the prospect of involving him in the investigation of the eight girls abducted in Minnesota, and consequently refuted to handle him with her gentle therapeutic touch, but Jack wanted him in the saddle, and he wanted him stable enough to accommodate potential future assignments.

In short, Jack needed a source of stability, possibly one the man wouldn’t find  _ claimable_, therefore the impassible Dr Lecter, beyond reach or control, fittingly suited his purpose.

“Tell me, how many confessions?”

“Twelve dozen, the last time I checked. None of them had any details until this morning.” He paused. “And then they all had details.”

Pictures of the victims and respective locations of their disappearance were pinned on the large cork board of his office, temporary designated as neutral ground for the confrontation, on full display for Lecter and Graham to peruse with scrutinizing eyes, their attention utterly absorbed.

The atmosphere wasn’t relaxed, although the good doctor had courteously thought of bringing coffee to their briefing. He had served them a generous amount, politely but peremptorily done the honours for Jack to his reluctant concession, and extended the beverage to Will himself.

The cup had been accepted with a minute, wordless nod, and no further intervention had been prompted from the unassuming profiler whose fleeting gaze had yet to rise above Lecter’s lower back or, after a while, his casually turned shoulders.

The strong scent of caffeine surrounded them, awakened their spirits and perhaps a certain urge to tease the other into communication, judging by the few words exchanged on personal taste and mental barriers.

Jack remained on the sidelines, letting their interaction run its course, assessing from afar.

“Not fond of eye contact, are you?” Lecter noted, addressing his bashful attitude,  _ baiting  _ him.

Graham sighed, tense. “Eyes are distracting. See too much, don’t see enough,” he said. “Hard to focus when you’re concentrating on how poorly your interlocutor is listening to you because you’re not talking  _ dominant  _ enough for their standards, or to be reminded how exasperating it is to handle someone who clearly feels entitled to treat you as a submissive for their own peace of mind, or perhaps that your lacking response to provocations inevitably tempts both dominants  _ and  _ submissive into seeing how far the rope can be pulled before my patience is triggered.” He looked like he had more to say.

Curiously enough, Will forfeited his aversion to eye contact during his short tirade.

Lecter merely grinned at his words, lowered his eyes to the mouth that proffered them. His smile faltered for the briefest moment.

“So, yeah,” Will relented, “I try to avoid eyes whenever possible.”

He briskly summoned Jack to the desk, intent on proceeding with their analysis, but the psychiatrist was quick to diverted the attention back on himself.

“I imagine what you see and learn touches every part of your mind,” the doctor began. “Your values and temperament are often questioned due to your strong associations, but your instincts are no less powerful, no less hard to suppress than ordinary.” The man shifted on his seat, bangs fluttering before his eyes. A small portion of his neck subtly revealed for the reticent profiler, measured but incongruous considering their predicament. A placating offering to his evasive gaze, Jack mentally ventured. “On the contrary, your self-possession turns you into a defensive individual, a dominant who prefers the solitude of his own condition to a willing, potentially vulnerable partner.”

His voice was soothing in a manner which Jack hadn’t until then conceived possible to associate to the man. Certainly a deliberate maneuver, rather than a strong urge.

It might have sounded a touch breathless, Jack wasn’t altogether sure. It was Will’s light frown and, immediately after, his flustered reaction that confirmed it.

“What is this, a  _ setup_?” He turned towards Jack, accusing. “Is this a setup?”

Lecter cleared his voice and attempted to recover his composure. “I’m sorry, Will. Interpreting is what we do,” he said, extending an arm to retriever his coffee. “I can’t stop reading your signals any more than you can mine,” he practically purred into the cup.

There wasn’t much Jack could do to improve the situation at that point.

Will seemed to share his mind, although there was just the slightest tremour to tinge his tone when he irritably demanded to be left alone.

“You won’t like me when I get proprietorial.”

In Jack’s peripheral vision, Lecter subtly squirmed on the spot.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” the profiler hurried from his chair, jaw clenched and breath laboured, “I have to go give a lecture on territoriality and self-restraint.”

Will had certainly  _ engaged  _ with Lecter, that much couldn’t be argued with. In fact, before fleeting the room, he sent the man a fierce glare to dissuade any attempt at pursuing him. A silent instruction the good doctor followed diligently, in his state of petrified stupor, to Jack’s utter flabbergast.

When the glass door closed after his passage, silence found its place back in the office.

“Maybe we shouldn’t poke him like that,” Jack ventured. “Perhaps a less, uh, direct approach.”  _ Involving less preening_, he internally added.

Heedless of his hesitant observation, Lecter repentinely recollected himself, poised and professional-looking like Jack wouldn’t have hoped for.

“What he has is an exceptionally developed dominant attitude,” he stated with enviable focus. “He can issue rather powerful commands on a submissive, very likely other dominants as well, which conversely compels him to hold himself back as much as possible. He might be unsure of the real extent of his own agency, and therefore wary of stating his claim in virtue of such keen sensitivity.”

Jack nodded, although he wasn’t entirely convinced.

“It’s a tough choice, to resign yourself to a life of loneliness, Jack,” he sternly observed.

There was a certain gravity to his tone, a pensive edge in his statement.

Albeit quite impressed with the thorough analysis, the seasoned agent suspected the doctor was rather taken with the profiler and his peculiar predicament. It occurred to him that Lecter shouldn’t have filled the position Jack had envisioned for him.

In the back of his mind, Jack almost regretted having introduced them, hoping he hadn’t inadvertently helped contributing to Will’s already overcrowded entourage of intrigued psychiatrists.

However, in a matter of days, the corpse of Cassie Boyle made its appearance in a remote field impaled on the horns of a stolen stag head, Graham identified it as the victim of a different killer, and his presence was urgently requested at the FBI Headquarters for an unscheduled deposition in court.

It would have required a more considerate man to turn down the good doctor and his kind offer to wake Will up himself, optimistically with another fortifying cup of his amazing coffee. As it was, Jack was sorely grateful he had been spared the inconvenience.

Lord knew he had more urgent business to attend.

**Author's Note:**

> I was asked to write an Apéritif revisitation where dominant and submissive traits are biological, and both Will and Hannibal are terrible depictions of their respective categories. Except that Hannibal, the in demand but impossible to control sub, almost submits to Will upon their first meeting, although the strangely accommodating dom was resigned to never find a mate. Hope I did it some justice.  
> I wasn’t kidding about the book. Let me know if you’re interested, or if you spot errors I should fix.  
> [Find me elsewhere.](http://cinnamaldeide.carrd.co) [Post on Twitter](https://twitter.com/Cinnamaldeide/status/1244607278805913601?s=20).


End file.
